


A Garden On My Skin

by allicekitty13



Series: Floral-verse [1]
Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27074398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allicekitty13/pseuds/allicekitty13
Summary: In a world where every scar produces a floral mark on the body of your soulmate in the same spot Alice Brandon tries to find the one who's caused her body to look like a garden.Written for Jalice Week Day 2- Soulmates
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Charlotte/Peter (Twilight), Light mentions of
Series: Floral-verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2131665
Comments: 17
Kudos: 45
Collections: Jalice Week 2020





	A Garden On My Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my work for Jalice Week 2020 Day 2: Soulmates, Enjoy!

Alice was strange; her skin was covered from head to toe on almost every surface of her body in flowers. Alice, like so many others, was blessed with a soulmate. Every beautiful flower on hey body represented a scar received by the individual to whom her heart was connected.

It started when she was a baby, at least that's what her mother had told her. At just five months old, the first flower appeared on Alice's shoulder. It was a reasonably common occurrence; her mother assumed her daughter's soulmate must have been in their terrible twos, causing trouble that ended in injury.

Alice was one when her mother woke up to find that a dahlia had surfaced on her daughter's leg overnight. Two flowers on a one-year-old was less common but not  _ entirely _ unheard of. Lilian Brandon hoped that her daughter's soulmate would grow to be a bit more careful. 

By the time Alice was of school-age, however, Lilian was fretful. Her daughter now had six flowers; a number most people would accumulate over their lifetime, not in only five short years. She dressed her daughter in long sleeves and pants to cover as much as possible, leaving only the rosebuds that framed her left eyebrow exposed.

Lilian didn't mind her daughter's floral embellishments; it wasn't something that could be helped; instead choosing to teach Alice to appreciate the gift. Her husband looked at things differently. Edgar had always hated the flowers; the small lilac on Lillian's left knuckle had always been a source of tension between the two. Not everyone had a soulmate, and Edgar had no flowers while the local librarian had a small scar on his left knuckle. Lilian did not go to the library often. 

At sixteen, she was old enough to understand what the markings meant. Old enough to recognize that most people didn't have a soul mate, to fully know that people treated those with markings a bit differently. It was a societal standard to keep your marks concealed wherever possible, never to discuss them. Alice couldn't do that. There were lilies on her cheek, a rose above her eyebrow, a lilac on her neck. Her arms long since covered by so many overlapping flowers, it was hard to identify them all. 

She didn't allow herself to be bothered by the marks, the stares she got on the street, or how people in her town did not want anything to do with strange little Alice. She loved the garden on her skin, spending a lot of time alone thinking about what must be happening to this person. Why and how they must be getting hurt so very often. It seemed as though a new mark would appear every few months. She worried for them, were they safe, did they think about her. She often wished she could skip all the in-between and go find them.

She was sixteen when her life took a dark turn. One morning, she had woken up to find the police in her living room carrying the news of her mother's passing. I was a car crash, deemed an accident, but Alice couldn't quite bring herself to accept that. A week later, the library closed temporarily; the librarian had drowned. His death had people talking; the townsfolk gossiped about Lillian Brandon having an affair with the librarian, how the man had drowned himself out of grief when he had heard of her passing.

Alice had other suspicions; she had felt that her father had a hand in her mother's death from the get-go. He would put up a good show of playing the part of mourning husband with the police and the mourners who came to pay respects, yet acted as though nothing was wrong when it was just he and Alice alone in the house. 

She felt as though her suspicions had been confirmed the day after her mother's funeral. She witnessed her father handing a strange envelope to a shady stranger at the memorial service. A week later, he moved a woman named Anna-Marie into the home. They were engaged within the week, married within the month.

Alice hated her new step-mother, the way she would dote on her in public, playing the part of a loving parent. At home, Anna-Marie was distant, cold; she wanted nothing to do with Alice. Sadly it seemed neither did Edgar. The only solace she took was in the genuine care and adoration given to her younger sister. At least no matter what happened, Cynthia would be Ok.

Alice knew what was coming long before it actually did. She'd had her escape planned out for weeks. Alice would wait for Edgar and Anna-Marie to leave for town without her, then grab the pre-packed backpack hidden in her closet and run. She would go through the woods and search the country for her soulmate; surely, they would care about her. Surely wherever they were would be better than here. 

She had made it just far enough into the woods that no one in town would hear anything that may transpire deep in the woods. Whoever her father had hired to follow her wasn't very discrete. She'd heard the footsteps long ago, the crunching of leaves and occasional snapping of a twig. She'd tried to lose them but had been ultimately unsuccessful. She recognized the smell of gunpowder first, hearing the sound of the gunshot mere milliseconds later. Alice understood what had happened before registering the pain letting out a soft chuckle as she fell to the ground. She felt as though she lay there for an eternity silently crying as the life faded from her body before everything went black. Unconscious, Alice didn't notice the strange man who silently approached. Didn't feel as he bent over, sinking his fangs into her throat. However, she did notice when he unclenched his jaw from her neck, and the most intense pain she believed possible spread through her body like fire.

\----

When Alice opened her eyes, she was alone in a small, dark, wooden shack. She looked around at the space from the bed she had been placed on, trying to figure out how she got here. The last thing Alice could remember was the bullet hitting her back, and then... so much pain. Now, her throat was burning; she needed water. No, not water... but what? 

Alice stood, needing to find something to relieve the pain she felt in her throat when a man entered the one-room shack; he held his hands out, indicating he was not there to harm her. He tossed an unconscious rabbit at her feet. She immediately understood what to do, picking it up to drink deeply; the blood coated her throat, ceasing the burning sensation temporarily. 

Alice would spend the next five years with this man, whom she learned to be named Carlisle. He explained how he'd found her bleeding to death in the woods and turned her into a vampire just before she had passed on saving her life. Carlisle taught her about vampiric customs, how they lived in secret, and how to hide in plain sight amongst humans. How he fed off of animals and how to hunt. 

As much as Alice enjoyed her time with Carlisle and eventually, his wife, Esme; she still wanted to find her soulmate, as new flowers continued to show up every day. So she bid the couple farewell, promising that she would return one day.

Three years later, she met Charlotte; Alice was working as a sketch artist in Philidelphia when she encountered the woman on a walk late at night. She had never seen another person with as many marks as she had and immediately approached the woman. Charlotte was kind, explaining how she and her soulmate Peter had been involved in vampire wars in the south. They had both been bitten numerous times during battle; consequently, they both had gardens just like Alice. 

She stayed with the pair for a month when she approached Charlotte with a question. Alice pulled down her sleeve to expose a long scar on her left shoulder blade. She wanted to know if Charlotte or Peter had ever seen anyone with a matching mark during their time in the south. Maybe just like the pair, her soulmate had been involved, thus the reason for her floral prints. The couple shared a mutual look of realization; Peter nodded in affirmation before leaving abruptly.

Charlotte sat down with Alice, prepared to explain some things. She told her about a man named Jasper, a man who'd had his entire worldview shaken apart the day a rose vine appeared on his shoulderblade. Not only was Jasper involved in the wars, but he was also a significant player. Jasper was the right-hand man of the leader of one of the most powerful covens in the south, the very same coven from which Peter and Charlotte had escaped. Charlotte confided in Alice that he had been questioning his role in the disputes for decades, how Peter had gone back countless times, risking his life in attempts to convince Jasper to leave. It had taken that rose vine to change his mind, to make him realize just maybe there was something better out there for him. He had been looking for her ever since.

When Peter returned alone, Alice wished she could cry; she had wanted desperately to find this man ever since the day her father had brought Anna-Marie into their home. She wanted someone to honestly care for and understand her. When Peter told her Jasper was waiting at the train station, she'd never run so fast in her life in her haste to get there. 

He was waiting as promised; suddenly nervous, she hid behind a stone pillar just hidden from view, taking him in. He was a tall, stoic man; even from a distance, Alice could make out a rosebud on his neck in the exact same spot Carlisle had bitten her years ago. When he turned his head slightly, she was able to make out a pair of striking red eyes and an expression of apprehension. With a sudden surge of courage, she stepped out into full view, taking cautious steps toward the man who now stared at her. 

They stood there for a moment, each taking the other in neither speaking, both of them just existing in this long-awaited moment. The instant Alice looked into his eyes, she felt comfortable; he seemed so familiar as though she had known him her entire life. It was an instant, overwhelming connection, and in that moment, she knew that she would never leave his side.

"Hi, my name is Alice." She broke the silence, finally extending a hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? I hope you liked it! Leave a comment below <3


End file.
